Cigarette
by thewillowtree1106
Summary: Hermione leaves her bag behind in potions one day, only to run into a certain Slytherin. Rated: MA 18 only please


Cigarette

Hermione ignored Ron and Harry as she packed up her Defense Against the Dark Arts books. Professor Snape had ended class early due to an emergency. Instead of being excited like the rest of the class, she was irritated. Harry and Ron had done nothing the entire class, except look at all the tricks and techniques in Harry's potion book. She had a bad feeling about that book, but no one seemed to listen to her anymore.

She could feel their eyes burning a hole in the back of her head, but she still didn't turn to them. Only when she heard footsteps leaving the dungeons behind her did she look up from her bag.

Walking to the door, she noticed that a couple of students had left their leftover ingredients behind.

"Of course," Hermione whispered to herself. "Of course, I have to pick up after everyone else."

She put her bag down and gathered the ingredients into her arms.

"I was still using those!" called a voice from behind.

Hermione turned to find Malfoy, a look of distain traced across his face. Lately, she had noticed that Malfoy looked a lot like her- sick and tired of everything. However, it was probably for entirely different reasons.

_He probably found a grey hair this morning_, Hermione thought amusingly. She smirked.

"You think this is funny? Now, I have to start all over again!" cried Malfoy. "Mudbloods really do have shit for brains."

Hermione's small smile vanished. Feigning clumsiness, she dropped all of the ingredients in her arms.

"Whoops," she said, as she stepped over the liquid and broken bottles on the floor. She walked over to where he was standing, dumbfounded; looked him straight in the eye and said, "You really should find someone to clean those up." With a slight raise of her eyebrow, she walked out of the room.

Hermione felt proud of herself as she left the dungeons. It was only when she reached the entrance hall of the castle did she realize she had left her bag behind. With a sluggish sigh, she turned around and went back to the dungeons.

Before entering the classroom, she checked to make sure she heard no movement within. She had made a perfect exit, and if she returned, she would look daft. There was no noise, so, she quietly walked through the door to her seat in the front of the room. But her bag wasn't there.

"Are you looking for this?"

_Why do I always have the worst of luck?_ Hermione pondered.

She turned and saw Malfoy across the room, her bag hanging lazily from his finger. The same satisfied look that she had worn not five minutes ago was now etched across her enemy's face. She wanted nothing more than to slap him.

"What, Granger? You've got your knickers in a twist?"

Hermione couldn't help but blush. Having only been around the dull conversations of Ron and Harry, she wasn't quite used to certain terminology. However, blushing was the wrong thing to do.

"Ah, that's right. You can't have. No one would be foolish enough to come anywhere near _your_ knickers," Malfoy laughed and walked across the room until he was standing a mere three inches from her. "You'll be at least thirty by the time you get anyone in the sack."

With the quickest of movements, Hermione's right hand came in contact with Malfoy's cheek. A sigh of disbelief escaped Hermione's throat. She slowly backed away from him, her eyes unable to move from his perplexed face.

Her back hit the edge of a desk. She was cornered, and she could tell by the look on Malfoy's face that he was just beginning to realize what had just occurred. His baffled expression turned to one of irritation. His furrowed eyebrows only highlighted the bags under his hatred-filled eyes. And even though, Hermione had ignored all of Harry's claims of Malfoy being a Deatheater, at that very moment she couldn't help but think that he was.

She wished desperately that she had not slapped him; that she had just ignored his pompous taunts. Oh, how she longed for those taunts… anything was better than the menacing look he was giving her now.

Her dominant hand slowly reached into the interior of robes, and grasped the thin wand that lay in the pocket. She whispered something underneath her breath.

He stepped closer to her, closer than she had ever been to a guy- although, this hardly counted.

He took something from his cloak pocket, and placed the thin object under her chin.

"_Imperio_."

Hermione's body immediately went slack, and her eyes seemed lifeless. No expression lay on her face as Malfoy closed the gap between them, his groin pushed up against her. He had complete control.

"Take off your cloak." Hermione's hand slowly reached to undo her robes. Malfoy stared down at thin fingers, unclasping the buttons. But she was too slow; he greedily undid the last few buttons.

"Undress yourself." Once again, she did as she was told, and as if he had performed the curse upon himself, Malfoy began to take off his clothes as well. He first undid his tie, and unbuttoned his white Oxford shirt. He shook out of the shirt, exposing a surprisingly toned stomach. He then loosened his belt.

He looked up to find Hermione almost naked, only in her bra and knickers. Her frail arms arched behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra. The bra fell to the floor, revealing her supple breasts. She reached down to her panties, but Malfoy whispered, "Stop."

He wanted to do this part himself.

Pulling her closer by the hips, he breathed her in. She smelled like sweat, perfume, and musty books. His fingers traced from her hips to her lower stomach, where they then inched their way down past the seam of her underwear. He lowered his pointer and middle fingers until they were inside of her, pushing hard, in and out. He looked into her dead eyes, seeing the reflection of his pleased face.

He rubbed her until she was wet, something that would happen even if she wasn't under his influence. But that wasn't the point. He wanted to take without her permission.

"Unzip my pants," he murmured in her ear. Those same, slender fingers worked their way to his zipper, which she obediently undid. Her arms went back to her side.

Malfoy took his fingers out from her panties to pick her up. He placed her on the table, where he had trapped her, and pulled down her knickers with both hands.

Swiftly, he reached down to where Hermione had unzipped him. He roughly grabbed her by the back of her neck, and forced himself inside of her.

A moan of elation unconsciously released from the body of Hermione. She thudded against the desk as Malfoy moved inside of her, her body still limp in his arms.

"Touch me," he ordered. Hermione's hands came up from her side and began to explore her enemy's body. Her own body was limp no more—much to Malfoy's enjoyment.

Hermione's body reached its climax before Malfoy was finished with it. Another moan echoed from Hermione's throat, and her breathing was heavy. He came only seconds later, and he pulled himself out of her.

He leaned down into her to lick up the mess he had left behind.

When he was finished with her, he whispered in her ear, "Now who's got your knickers in a twist, Mudblood?"

He backed away from her in order to get dressed, and then he ordered her to do the same. When she was fully clothed, he took his wand from the table, and ordered her to pick up her bag and leave the dungeons. Her footsteps echoed across the thick walls as she left the room, leaving Malfoy in silence. He raised his wand, and without a word, he lifted the Imperious Curse…

In the hallway leading out from the dungeons, Hermione quickened her step. Her body ached in places where they had never ached; and she smelled like sweat and something she had never smelt before.

Her brain felt scattered. She recalled the spell that she had cast on Malfoy before she thought he was going to kill her. It had been the Confundus spell, one in which she used to make Malfoy think the cigarette in his robe pocket was his wand.

In all of her life, she would never have thought that Malfoy would use one of the Unforgivable Curses the way that he had. It surprised her when he had taken off his clothes, entered her body, and thrust against her.

What surprised her even more was that she liked it.

(Authors' Note: So, I'm pretty recent to this site. However, this idea was stuck in my head, and even though the storyline is pretty raunchy, I just wanted to try out it out. Please REVIEW, even if you think it's bad. Any criticism is good criticism. Thanks for reading, and I'll be sure to update soon.)


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